


Run Boy Run

by thegrandvezir



Category: Angelology - Fandom
Genre: Angelology, Angelopolis, Danielle Trussoni, Gen, just some scene from the book that I rewrote, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:35:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3081563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrandvezir/pseuds/thegrandvezir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only so much a man can do while being pursued by the Nephilim, or the Famous Ones. Half human, half angel, and under the command of deliciously dangerous Percival Grigori, they're to return to their master bearing Verlaine's head. Whether Gabriella can rescue him in time is questionable.</p>
<p>Just a random rewrite of an intense scene in a brilliantly written book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run Boy Run

"Mr Verlaine, do you believe in angels?"

Gabriella's voice was deep and commanding, almost seductive as it arrived slightly hoarsely from the other end, forcing Verlaine to pause briefly in order to recompose himself before replying. "I believe in angels as much as I believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny," he said, his palms still frozen against the chill surface of his window sill while his troubled gaze wandered restlessly outside.

"Your delightfully snarky attempt at sarcasm wins you a lot of things, but not my time." Gabriella Lévi-France Valko bore the voice of an impatient mother now, one trying to get her kid to safety as soon as was humanly possible, but Verlaine wasn't certain he was overjoyed with her peculiar approach.

"I don't understand the cause of your distress, ma'am."

"Look to your left," came the woman's swift reply. "Two of the creatures are in the black SUV in the parking lot directly below you. Beyond it you will see a white van. I am inside."

Following Gabriella's instructions, Verlaine spotted two tall, fair-haired men stepping out of the dark-coloured Mercedes SUV which he recognized to be identical to the one that had followed him up the steep slope to St. Rose Convent, and which happened to belong to the same two men who had broken into his car, stole his research, and completely wrecked one of the most important nights of his life.

"I see," he said, his voice restrained now. Gabriella appeared absolutely unfazed, almost expecting each of his replies, it seemed to Verlaine. She directed him with ease, slowly yet steadily pulling him into a mission with complicated rules he wasn't sure he wanted to be sucked into.

"They will be at your door within minutes. They will take what they need by any means necessary, as I suspect you already know, and their methods will be less than gentle."

Indeed, the duo was striding towards the building of Verlaine's apartment now, their gait straight and determined.

"Is there a fire escape?" Gabriella's voice rang through the device again, startling Verlaine and forcing him to focus on the task at hand.

"There is, but it's connected to the front door. They'll surely spot me if I go now." He continued to watch, blood pumping in his ears, as one of the men produced two pieces of metal from the pocket of his suit, fashioned them into a lock pick, and infiltrated the building as if the whole act was a stunt he'd pulled numerous times in the past.

"Mr Verlaine, I need you to concentrate. Do you have the letters?"

Sweat was visible on Verlaine's forehead now, but he commanded himself to grab the duffel bag he'd thrown carelessly on his couch only a few minutes ago, retrieve Sister Innocenta's letters from where he'd secured them in his shirt's inner pocket, and stuff them in the bag among his other 'emergency' possessions. He pulled the window open in one rapid, panic-stricken movement, and strained his eyes to make out a lithe figure in the backseat of the white van still sitting idly just outside the parking lot.

"I do. I'm coming down," he said, bracing his sweaty palms on the icy sill and somersaulting down to the next level in one reckless motion. Upon landing, an eardrum-piercing explosion shook the glass of the half-open window he had just escaped from, alerting Verlaine to the breaking down of his front door and the men's presence inside his apartment.

"My honest advice is that you should hurry," Gabriella was, despite the rapidly-unfolding events, icily calm, and Verlaine could do little more than press his cellphone more firmly against his ear and shoulder and grunt a barely coherent reply.

"The jump, I'm not sure if I can make it."

"I will be ready to collect you. You need only sprint down the final road to the parking lot," came the precise instructions that barely managed to register in his increasingly confused mind. He dared not glance upwards, though he already knew that the hired duo would be leaning down his apartment's window shortly, if they weren't already, prepared to grab him by the scruff of his neck and snatch him back up. If they didn't kill him on the spot, they'd surely deliver him to his majesty Percival Grigori, that is, if Percival himself had managed to last long enough in his condition to be able to witness the death he'd indirectly promised Verlaine only the previous night.

"You're almost there," Gabriella spoke quickly, confusing him further by offering encouragement, but providing him with appreciated feedback nonetheless. "You can let go now. I will be rendering your descent easier, I presume, by not attempting to divert your attention away from your mission right now. Be careful."

Verlaine's cellphone beeped Gabriella's disconnection, and he grabbed the chance to slip it into his pocket, releasing the tension in his neck. Using both hands now to grip the freezing stone of the floor's edge, he glanced down, measuring the force of a leap that would ensure landing on the street instead of the balcony of the mini-level directly below him. As he inched downwards, the skin of his palm stretched uncomfortably, efficiently reopening the wound in his hand, but he steeled himself, remaining determined enough to ignore the pain and reach the edge of the pre-final level of the short building, his feet dangling down. He could hear the unmistakable sound of the an engine roaring to life and the vehicle speeding towards him. Verlaine held his breath before letting go, hovering briefly above the balcony beneath him as time seemed to slow down, and finally landed in all fours on the street below, staining it with the bright crimson liquid that was now pouring steadily out of his palm.

Tiny black dots clogged the edges of his vision as he regained his feet, and he staggered backwards, momentarily sure he was about to lose his grip on reality.

"Get in!" A strangely familiar voice was calling to him from a street length's away, but it took him several long moments to pinpoint who it belonged to.

An old, yet relatively dashing woman was holding a door for him as she pointed with her eyes to the seat next to her own inside the small white van. Verlaine squeezed his bloody palm with the thumb of his free hand as he began to make for Gabriella's car, while a sound that seemed to be getting louder and faster with each passing second buzzed at the edge of his consciousness. If he had to guess, he would assume it to be the crashing noise of thundering footsteps that belonged to the two men who'd missed him at his apartment and had obviously become aware of his attempted escape.

"Drive!" he heard himself groan, breathless, as he dove in, straightening himself by bracing a hand on the van's door, now ajar against a strong wind that was picking up but seemed to have blown in out of nowhere.

"Do what he said," Gabriella hissed, her commanding voice and figure even more formidable up close, as she pulled the door shut behind Verlaine, who could do little more than collapse in his seat. But as the driver smashed his foot on the accelerator, Verlaine found himself turning wildly to stare through the windshield, eyes searching for the familiar black SUV, his mind desperate to get a firm grip on reality in order to figure out whether or not he should be embracing the possibility of his imminent death.

"We'll lose them, my chauffeur will see to that," Gabriella announced, making herself comfortable in the soft, velvet-covered cushions of the van's backseat despite the other car speeding up behind them, gaining ground more rapidly than their little white vehicle could race ahead.

"What do they want?" Verlaine asked, disbelief clear in his voice now as the initial shock began to ebb and the severity of the situation began to settle upon him.

"Your head on a silver plate would be an excellent start by Percival's standards," Gabriella said in her serious voice, briefly stunning Verlaine into silence. "Mr Grigori isn't particularly known for his light requests."

"What's Percival Grigori got to do with all this?" Verlaine asked, growing more helpless with each answer he received.

"The man you're working for is not who you think him to be, Mr Verlaine. It seems to me as if you've unintentionally dragged yourself into the middle of all this, but now that what's done is done, you might as well be of use to us. What are your motives?"

Verlaine considered this for a long minute, trying to decide whether he was supposed to trust Gabriella or not. He knew her for all of twenty minutes, but then she'd managed to save his life twice within that limited length of time.

"I'm trying to get a promotion," he finally said half-heartedly, sinking deeper into his seat as he tried to keep his balance against the skilled maneuvers that sent the car spinning in dangerous speeds but simultaneously assisted in throwing the assassins off their trail.

"And a promotion you got," Gabriella commented grimly, digging in her purse to produce a packet of cigarettes. Balancing one between her fingers, she pulled a small gold lighter out of the pocket of her cardigan with her free hand before offering the packet to Verlaine.

"I'm not sure if it's the one I was anticipating," he sighed, sliding a cigarette out of Gabriella's packet gratefully. "I'd much rather be chilling by the fire than trying to escape from formally-dressed serial killers right now."

"Your sense of humour has come out intact, and that's always a plus," Gabriella remarked, casting a glance behind her shoulder as if to gauge the progress of their pursuers. As far as Verlaine was concerned, the duo that wanted him dead was nowhere to be seen, and that ensured his safety for the time being. "Your employer, Percival Grigori III is the only sibling of Otterley Grigori, the woman who hired the Gibborim."

"Gibborim?" Verlaine repeated, tasting the word.

"They're a rank of Nephilim who, despite occupying a lower class of angels in comparison to Percival and Otterley Grigori, should not be overlooked." Gabriella's expression was earnest and grim now, the wrinkles under her eyes and mouth more pronounced. "They used to be the most formidable warriors of the celestial forces, and while it took them a while to find themselves here on Earth, their numbers remain frighteningly high."

"And let me guess, they're under strict orders to kill me which, should they overlook, will guarantee their own death," Verlaine finished for her, earning a questioning look from Gabriella.

The moment she ensured every last trace of his previously humorous nature was gone, she turned to the driver, her tone quick and urgent now. "Take the next exit. Get us to St. Rose Convent."

"St. Rose Convent?" he echoed, trying to hide his alarm. "Why there?"

"I believe you've met my granddaughter," Gabriella said, as if pointing out the most obvious thing in the world.

"As a matter of fact, I have," Verlaine replied, still unsure of Gabriella's motives for bringing up the young nun who seemed to have earned a permanent place in one corner of his mind after he'd made her acquaintance.

"She's in more immediate danger than I originally thought," Gabriella announced, forcing the conversation to take an entirely different turn. "And for better or for worse, Mr Verlaine, I'm under the impression you're Evangeline's best chance of staying alive."

\-- Angelology, Verlaine's chapter, p.412,  
Danielle Trussoni


End file.
